Everyone Has AIDS
by forgotten child
Summary: [Chap 4, full of CollinsMo friendship, because they're closer than really portrayed] How everyone with AIDS, got AIDS. Drama, I guess. CollinsOC, RogerApril, AngelMimi friendship. M, for sexual content, and drug use. Nothing to do with the song.
1. COLLINS

Everyone Has AIDS

Summary: How everyone _with_ AIDS _got_ AIDS. Drama, I guess. CollinsOC, RogerApril, AngelMimi friendship

Disclaimer: I don't own RENT, nor the AIDS song. No, it's not a Songfic.

**Thank You, Jonathan Larson**

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Chapter 1: COLLINS

Collins sat on the subway, Phil's strong arm wrapped around his shoulders. The two were coming back from a rave in Manhattan, heading back to Collins' apartment.

A woman was sitting across from the couple stared at the two, seemingly not able to decipher the relationship. _Close friends_, she may have been thinking, _or fags?_

Phil, annoyed at the specific attention, but constantly putting on a show, gently placed his hand on Collins' knee. He squeezed it, and kept his gaze on the woman.

She scoffed. Now she knew what they were. But she continued watching them, now with disgusted interest.

Collins tried to ignore the negative, but Phil wouldn't let it go. He faced his current beau, who looked back. The larger of the two leaned into the anarchist, fiercely kissing him.

Phil's hand stayed on Collins' knee, groping it as their kiss continued. Collins placed his hands on either side of the man's face.

They stayed in this position until the woman stood up and moved to the end of the train. The two parted, keeping their faces close. The laughed, keeping their eyes locked in each others.


	2. Closing the Deal

Chapter 2: Closing the Deal

Collins opened the door to the apartment that he shared with his friends. He peered inside, searching for forms in the dark.

"Roger?" he called, "Mark? Benny?" After no answer, though he was sure that there wouldn't be one, he led Phil in.

"Nice place," the man mused, looking around.

"Four roommates," Collins laughed, "I'm surprised you can see the floor."

Phil stood still for a moment, looking around. After a moment, he turned eagerly to Collins.

"You know," he said to the anarchist, "I really like you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he replied, chuckling, "a lot."

"Same here," Collins told him, sheepishly looking at the floor.

Phil began to walk towards him, with a smooth smile on his face. "I'm glad that you brought me here," he said, stepping closer.

Before Collins could answer, Phil's lips touched his. They stood in a passionate kiss for some time, not leaving their position. Soon, however, their hands began to move. Phil's long fingers unbuttoned Collins' shirt, as the latter removed the man's jacket.

"Bedroom," the anarchist barely mumbled, before parting. He took Phil's hand, and led him past a door to a small room filled with a single bed.

Just after kicking the door shut, the man's hands went straight to Collins' zipper, fumbling with his belt. Collins placed his hands on the other mans, to stop him, momentarily.

"You're clean, right?" Collins asked, seriously. Phil looked up and laughed.

"Would I be trying so hard to get into your pants if I wasn't?"

Collins laughed too. Good point.

He coincided, and soon the two began to become one in the small loft apartment. Though Collins normally didn't go in so deep so fast with a new guy, he was very glad that he's made this exception.


	3. It's Over

Chapter 3: It's Over

Collins woke up alone in his bed. He looked around the room, but still found nothing. Pulling on a pair of boxers, we went into the main room of the loft. Roger sat in the window sill, drinking coffee and reading the news paper. Mark stood in the middle of the room at his projector, cutting and pasting the reels.

Roger grinned when his friend walked in. "And how was _your_ night?" He asked.

"You know," Collins grumbles, pouring himself a cup, "just went to that party and stuff."

"With Phil?" Mark asked, looking up.

"Yes, with Phil," the man coincided, rolling his eyes. He looked at his friends, who both watched him with their eyebrows raised.

"And?" Mark wanted to know.

"And…" Collins said, not wanting to give anything up, "he stayed over last night."

Roger sat back, laughing contently. Mark grinned, and went back to his work.

"So where is he?" the filmmaker asked. Collins sighed.

"I have no idea," he said sadly, "he must have had something important to do."

"Are you talking about that dude this morning?" Maureen asked, coming through the door. Her brown hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she was sporting her favorite leather pants with a pair of knee-high boots.

"_Yeah_," Collins said suspiciously, "did you run into him?"

"Scared the crap outta me!" she said, walking over towards Mark. She gave him a peck on the lips, and hugged his waist.

"Did he say where he was off to?" the anarchist asked, impatient to know the truth.

"Nope," the girl told him, "just said, 'Um, I've gotta go,' and split."

Collins thought for a moment, and shook his head. "I'll just call him later," he decided aloud.

"Good," the drama queen joked, "the man should always call first."

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"Phil? It's Collins." Collins sat alone in his room, the phone pressed to his ear.

"Oh, um, hi," the man on the other line said.

"You left in such a hurry, we didn't get a chance to talk or anything," the anarchist pointed out, not really knowing what to say.

"Yeah," Phil said nervously.

"You defiantly gave my roommate quite a scare!" He laughed. Phil didn't make a sound.

"Listen, Collins, I'm kind of with someone."

"Right now? Oh, sorry. Should I call back?" he felt to embarrassed.

"No, no. I mean, I'm kind of seeing someone. Else."

Collins held his breath. Someone else?

"We we're going though a rough time," Phil continued, "but we got talking this morning, and we're getting everything figured out."

"I see," Collins said, not knowing how to respond.

"I mean, you're really great, Collins. Everything I said it true. But right now, it just won't work," he paused, waiting for a response. "Are you alright?"

But Collins didn't respond. He didn't say anything more. He hung up.


	4. Illness

Chapter 4: Illness

Collins sat up in bed, hearing only a roar in his ears. His head pounded, and he flopped back down.

After another moment, he climbed out of bed, standing up. That's when the nausea hit him. Like a wave, he leaned forward and clutched his stomach. He groaned and moved towards the door.

Out in the main room, Benny sat reading the news paper. When Collins same in, he looked up. "Man," he said, "you don't look go good."

"And I feel like crap," the man mumbled, going to the bathroom. He knocked on the closed door.

"What?" Maureen called out, "I just got out of the shower!"

"Like I care what you look like naked," Collins said back, and opened the door. He opened the cabinet and searched for some Tums or Advil. Maureen watched him move painfully as she dried her hair with a towel, not bothering to cover up.

"You sick?" she asked, stepping over. She placed one hand on his forehead, and nodded. "You've got a fever," she told him.

"Not surprised," he muttered, popping two tablets in his mouth. He left the drama queen alone, and plopped on the couch next to Benny.

"Med Service," his friend said, not lifting his eyes from the article.

"What?

"Med service," he repeated, "cheap, fast medical help. You should go."

Collins sighed. "I'm fine," but then he reconsidered. "If I still feel like crap tomorrow," he promised, "I'll go."

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The next day, he kept his promise.

Maureen sat next to him on the subway over to the center, but she just watched his feet. He felt sick enough, without the motion of the train. The diva rubbed his back as he rubbed his temples.

Finally, they shuffled into the Med Service building, and took a seat. Collins grumbled as he filled out paperwork, and groaned as he sat still afterward.

"Collins," Maureen finally said, "I love you, but please, _please_ stop it! You're acting like an annoying child!"

He laughed. "You'll never be a mother," he told her. She sighed.

"I know, I have no patience," she replied.

Just then, and nurse stepped around the corner. She looked through her glasses at her clip board. "Thomas Collins?" she called. The man sat up and moved towards her, with Maureen following.

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"So when did you start feeling ill?" the doctor asked, jotting down notes.

"Yesterday morning, when I woke up," he said, keeping his eyes on his friend.

"And the symptoms are…?" the physician continued.

"Nausea, fever, and a head ache," Collins repeated, just like he and Maureen had practiced. She nodded in response.

"Alright," the doctor said, still writing. He looked up. "We're going to do a blood test," he said, "just to make sure there's not anything there. We'll do that as well as a urinalysis."

Collins nodded. Pee in a cup, give some blood. It was easy enough.

The doctor soon left, leaving the two friends with a small plastic cup and a questionnaire. They looked from one to the other, not really knowing what to do.

"I'll start filling out the paper," Maureen stated, taking the pen, "and you pee in the cup."

"Right here?" he asked, looking at it.

"Why not?" she said with a smirk, "I mean, 'I don't care what you look like naked.'" He laughed at her reference to the morning before. He shrugged, and unzipped his pants.

"Name: Thomas Collins;" Maureen read as she filled out his paper, "Date of Birth…" she paused to let him fill in.

"July 14, 1965," he told her, holding the plastic cup steady.

Maureen began to mumble as she wrote, until she came to the actual questions. "Have you ever had physical relations with a woman?"

"Yes," he answered.

"Have you ever had physical relations with a man?" she laughed as she wrote the answer, 'yes.'

Collins healed up the little cup filled with yellow liquid. "Mission accomplished," he said, sitting back on the examining table. He groaned; his symptoms weren't getting any better.

He laid down, and left Maureen to fill out the rest of the questions. She knew him well enough to answer most of them, and she could ask him the rest later.

Collins awoke with a start when the nurse came in. He'd only dozed off for a few minutes, but now he felt terrible.

The nurse came up to him, and rubbed an antiseptic-soaked cotton ball onto the vein on his arm. Without warning, she stuck in a needle, and began to draw blood.

"Have you ever had physical relations with an animal of any species?" Maureen giggled, still reading off the paper.

Collins ignored her and turned to the nurse. "What exactly are you testing for?" he asked.

"Anything and everything," she said, bored, "Syphilis, Lyme's Disease, HIV/AIDS, Mono, whatever."

"Have you ever gained or lost an excessive amount of weight in a small period of time?" Maureen asked.

"And I thought I just had the flu," Collins muttered.

"Probably," the nurse responded, placing and Band-Aid on the spot that she pilled the needle out of, "but it's just regulation."

"I see," he said, rubbing his head.

"Have you ever taken a hallucinogen of any sort?" Maureen read, and then snorted. She didn't even wait for an answer.

"Can I take anything over-the-counter for the symptoms?" he asked, hating the way his head pounded.

"Have you ever passed out after drinking excessive amounts of alcohol?"

"Oh, I recommend it," the nurse told him, and left the room.

"Have you ever gotten a tattoo?"

The nurse returned. Collins handed her his urine, and she smiled, surprised. "You peed in _here_?" she asked, almost laughing.

"Have you ever been nude in public?"

"Maureen," he said, once they were alone.

"Yeah," she said, looking up.

"God bless you."


End file.
